


The Scandalous Secrets of Spies

by doctorhelena



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Edwin Jarvis is on the case, F/M, POV Outsider, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Steggy Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorhelena/pseuds/doctorhelena
Summary: Mr. Jarvis has a number of theories about Miss Carter’s love life. They're all wrong.
Relationships: Ana Jarvis/Edwin Jarvis, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 34
Kudos: 221
Collections: Steggy Week





	The Scandalous Secrets of Spies

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Day 5 of Steggy Week 2020 (Outsider POV).

_Washington DC, August 1949_

Peggy Carter, although the furthest thing from shy and retiring, generally volunteered very little about her personal life, even to her dearest friends. Edwin Jarvis supposed it was at least partially habit due to her chosen line of work, but it _was_ rather frustrating at times, particularly when it seemed that she was preoccupied with something - something that might well benefit from a cup of tea and a friendly ear.

All of which was to say, Miss Carter was clearly hiding something.

The nature of her work did, of course, legitimately lend itself to any number of highly classified secrets that Jarvis decidedly did not have the clearance to know about. But working as he did for Mr. Stark, he more often than not did know about them regardless, and furthermore - that didn’t seem to be quite it, somehow.

“Truly?” asked his wife Ana, when he brought it up with her one evening as they cleaned the kitchen. She gave him that little shrug with a half-smile, that always, for some reason, made him want to kiss the tip of her nose. “I think Miss Carter has met somebody special.”

Jarvis frowned. “But surely she would have mentioned - ” he began, then trailed off. “Oh, perhaps you’re right, after all.” Miss Carter certainly hadn’t appreciated his input two years ago in California when she’d been unexpectedly put in the position of choosing between two quality suitors, and she most definitely hadn’t welcomed his tentative attempts to console her after her disappointingly brief relationship with Agent Sousa had come to a rather abrupt end.

“It’s really for the best, Mr. Jarvis,” she’d said at the time, in rather clipped tones. “I don’t wish to discuss it any further.” And she hadn’t, nor had she shown any further signs of any romantic entanglement since. “Married to my work,” she said cheerfully, when anybody brought it up.

“Miss Carter is often quite secretive,” said Ana, now. “I believe it comes with being a spy. But even Mr. Stark has noticed that she’s acting a bit unlike her usual self. He asked me about it, you know.”

Jarvis handed her another plate. “He did?”

Ana smiled. “Yes. He says she’s been leaving the office much earlier than usual - which is still rather late, mind you - and, he caught her actually humming to herself the other day. He wondered if I knew anything.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, setting the now-dry plate on top of the stack and reaching for another. “She has not said anything, but - call it intuition. Don't you think she seems - happier, somehow?”

Jarvis nodded, slowly. “I believe she does, now that you mention it.”

\-----

It bothered Jarvis, no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, that Miss Carter hadn’t confided in him or Ana. He believed, and had no reason to doubt, that she considered them both dear friends, and now Ana mentioned it she _had_ seemed terribly happy lately, radiating an inner glow that he hadn’t seen in her even during her most uncomplicated moments with Wilkes or Sousa.

It bothered Mr. Stark too, as it turned out. “I don’t know what she thinks we’ll do to mess things up for her,” he complained late one afternoon as Jarvis assisted him in the lab, soldering the housing for their latest attempt at a stable palladium reactor core. “I might tease her, but she knows we’re pals, and I’d never try to drive a man she really liked away.” He frowned. “Maybe she thinks there’s some reason we won’t approve of him.”

“With all due respect,” said Jarvis, dryly, “I can’t imagine she’d think you had a leg to stand on in that regard. Miss Carter’s taste in men has always been relatively sensible.” 

Mr. Stark grinned. “Yeah, turned me down for fondue in Lucerne once so she could make time with Steve. Can’t say I blame her, to be honest." He snorted. "Few days later she used the poor guy for target practice. Just as well she never said yes to me - I don't have anything near the reflexes Rogers had.”

Jarvis’s lips twitched. “Indeed,” he said, neutrally.

Mr. Stark looked thoughtful. “Maybe it isn't a man. Do you think she’s mixed up in something?”

Jarvis considered. “She does have a tendency to take an investigation into her own hands if she doesn’t feel properly supported. But, given that she’s now in charge of the entire organization - ”

“Good point,” said Mr. Stark, gingerly setting down the partially-completed reactor core. “So, it has to be a man, then.” He raised his eyebrows. “Or - maybe not a man,” he said, slowly. “That could explain all the secrecy. She _did_ warn me off that roommate of hers pretty strongly, back when I was wining and dining her through all those Hollywood parties.”

Jarvis raised a single eyebrow. “That seems an entirely sensible precaution, given the rate at which you go through young ladies. And if you will recall, Miss Martinelli has been living in Los Angeles for the past six months.” Although, he thought slowly, Dottie Underwood certainly seemed to have something of a crush on Miss Carter and, upon reflection, there had been a certain tension in their interactions in Los Angeles, that if viewed from the right angle, one might possibly -

“Dinner is ready, gentlemen!” came Ana’s voice from the doorway of the lab, and Jarvis shook his head. It really was none of his business, after all.

\-----

“You are wondering about Miss Carter again,” said Ana astutely, as the two of them sat down to dinner at the kitchen table. Mr. Stark, having been served in the dining room, was busy absently wolfing down his food while paging through a technical specification that had just arrived from a colleague on the Telex.

Jarvis sighed. “I simply wish she wouldn’t be so secretive,” he said, picking up his butter knife. “I worry, you know.”

Ana laughed. “Miss Carter is fine, I am quite sure. But if it’s bothering you that much, Edwin, just ask her.”

\-----

Ana had been right of course, Jarvis thought as he manoeuvered the car onto the busy highway, Miss Carter beside him in the passenger seat. He cleared his throat once they'd pulled into their lane. “I should like to ask you something,” he said. “But first, I would like to point out that the road is rather busy at the moment, and it would be terribly unsafe at this juncture to take the braking of the vehicle into your own hands. Or feet, as it were.”

“Is there something about being trapped in a car together, Mr. Jarvis, that makes you particularly keen to discuss my love life?” Miss Carter asked dryly, clearly recalling the incident to which he was referring.

Jarvis raised his eyebrows. “Is there currently a love life to discuss, Miss Carter?” He ventured a sideways glance at her, but had to return his gaze to the road too soon to get a true sense of her expression.

“Not to discuss, no” she said, politely but firmly.

Jarvis sighed. “I rather like to think we are friends, Miss Carter. Good friends, as a matter of fact. And friends worry about one another. You’ve been acting rather oddly, lately.” He risked a quick glance at her. “Ana believes that you seem to be - well, in love.”

“She does, does she?” Miss Carter asked, sounding somewhat amused.

Jarvis nodded. “Yes, and Mr. Stark had wondered if perhaps - ”

“Good Lord, do you all have nothing more interesting to gossip about?” she asked, still looking rather amused. “My life, despite what the Captain America Adventure Program might lead you to believe, is not, in fact, a radio soap opera.”

“I am well aware of that,” said Jarvis, “but I’m equally aware that you are dodging the question, Miss Carter.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought she might be turning a little pink. “None of your business,” she said, firmly, but she looked like she was fighting a smile.

“None of us would judge, if your choice were to be somewhat unorthodox,” Jarvis blurted suddenly, and she turned to blink at him. “It’s only,” he hastened to explain, “that Mr. Stark thought it might explain why you were so reticent to discuss the matter. And, in retrospect, I believe I did sense a certain - magnetism - between you and Miss Underwood, so I thought perhaps - ”

“ _Dottie Underwood?_ ” she asked, incredulously. “Do you seriously think I might be having a clandestine affair with _Dottie Underwood_?”

“Well no,” he said, “not as such, but - ”

“Good Lord, man,” she said, looking utterly astonished. “Dottie, aside from her tendency to commit homicide at the drop of a hat, is a former Russian agent who is now working for God knows who, and I would hope you would think better of me than to believe for a moment that I, the _director of an international intelligence agency_ , would - ”

“I merely,” Jarvis forged on, with slightly wounded dignity, “wanted to assure you that, should your paramour in fact be, er, not a man, I would not judge. Nor would Ana. Nor Mr. Stark, for that matter.”

Miss Carter had a very odd look on her face. “I - thank you.”

“Is it?” he asked, quietly. “A woman?”

She shook her head. “No. Mr. Jarvis, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

He frowned, but let it go, and they rode in silence for a long while.

“I assure you that the only person I’m in love with at present is the one I've simply never been able to properly fall _out_ of love with,” she said, finally. “Guide’s honour.”

Well, the fact that she wasn't over Steve Rogers certainly wasn’t news, but Jarvis certainly couldn’t see why she seemed so _cheerful_ about it.

\-----

Miss Carter didn’t often indulge in field missions these days but, despite the slight improvement brought about by SHIELD’s somewhat unorthodox hiring policies, the severe shortage of female agents in the organization made her participation occasionally expedient. Privately, Jarvis felt that she also enjoyed the opportunity to indulge in a little recreational punching from time to time.

At any rate, he opened the door late one evening in early September to find Miss Carter in an evening gown and a blonde wig, looking rather unwell, accompanied by a man whose brown wig and glasses altered his appearance well enough that it took a moment for Jarvis to recognize him as Agent Thompson.

“Got a bucket or something?” asked Thompson, without preamble, “or should I just point her at one of these bushes?”

Jarvis blinked, then sprang into action, removing the arrangement of flowers from the small urn on the hall table and handing the urn itself to Miss Carter, just in time. “I’m so sorry,” she said, once she’d finished. “I can't seem to stop. I think it must be something I ate.”

“Good Lord,” said Jarvis, turning to Thompson. “Could she have been poisoned?”

Thompson shrugged. “You never know with Marge here, but she says she didn’t eat anything at the gala.” Jarvis frowned, but Miss Carter was swaying a little on her feet and he moved to assist her, settling her onto the nearest settee in the front room and replacing the urn in her hands with the mop bucket from the cupboard before whisking it away to dispose of its contents.

When he returned, she’d removed her wig. Her hair was matted and sweaty, her face still very pale. It did not, Jarvis reflected, look like she was over whatever it was. She closed her eyes. “Please don’t tell Howard I was sick in his urn.”

Thompson snorted. “Look, Carter, I'm sorry you're sick, but you just made a royal mess of the mission. I’m gonna head back to the office and see what we can salvage. We don’t have a lot of time to regroup.”

Miss Carter opened her eyes. “I haven’t mucked it up as badly as you think, Jack. Where’s my handbag?” 

Thompson nodded in the direction of the foyer. “It’s on the table in the hall.” He sighed at the impatient look she gave him. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll get that for you right away, Director, ma’am.”

Miss Carter gave him a rather feeble version of a nasty look as she took the handbag and dug through it without moving anything but her arm. “There,” she said, holding up a key. “I managed to pick McKay’s pocket during the confusion. If you go now, you should be able to break into his office before he notices it’s gone.”

Thompson blinked. “Wait, you picked the guy’s pocket while you were throwing up on his date?”

Miss Carter sighed. “Not during. Just afterwards. Even I have my limits.”

“Carter,” said Thompson, slowly, “please tell me you didn’t do this on purpose as a distraction. Because if you did, I have to say you’re kind of overdoing it.”

“Of course I didn’t,” snapped Miss Carter, her eyes firmly closed again. “But once it happened, it seemed improvisation was the order of the day, and I didn’t imagine I’d get a better opportunity. Now, Agent Thompson, I need you to go search McKay’s office. Call for backup if you think you need it, but time is of the essence. We need those files photographed, and preferably we need them without McKay’s realizing we’ve been there. It’s entirely possible, now that I’ve ruined his date, that he might decide to stop by the office later this evening.”

Thompson nodded. “Okay.” He took the key and slipped it into his pocket. “Get some rest, Marge. You look like hell. God, I hope it’s not contagious.”

As the door closed behind Thompson, Jarvis turned to Miss Carter. “I’m sorry,” she said, not opening her eyes. “The gala was nearby, and time was rather of the essence. I tried to convince Agent Thompson to drive directly to McKay’s office, but I suppose the constant vomiting was a little - ” she broke off in mid-sentence, swallowed convulsively, and bolted for the powder room.

“Miss Carter, are you quite certain you don’t need to see a doctor?” Jarvis asked, frowning, once she’d emerged. 

She shook her head. “No, I’ll be all right. I’m terribly sorry about all of this. If I could trouble you for a ride home, I’ll be out of your way.”

“Miss Carter,” said Jarvis, firmly, “you are most certainly not going home, alone, in this condition. Ana will lend you something to wear to bed and get you settled into one of the guest rooms. You will stay with us, at the very least until you’re able to keep something down.”

Miss Carter looked like she was going to protest, then looked frustrated and sighed. “All right.”

He woke Ana, who was soon clucking sympathetically over Miss Carter, fetching her a glass of ginger ale with a straw and a cool cloth for her forehead, and then tucking her up into one of the guest beds in a pair of blue pajamas. Miss Carter smiled at her. “I really am feeling a great deal better already,” she said.

“Good,” said Ana, briskly. “We will try dry toast in the morning.” She moved the phone extension closer so Miss Carter could reach it from the bed. “If you need anything during the night, please don’t hesitate to call us. Mr. Stark has tinkered with the telephones - dialing 3 will ring the extension in our bedroom.”

Miss Carter nodded. “I presume these work like the telephones in the flat Angie and I once shared? Dial 9 first to get an outside line?”

“Yes,” said Jarvis, firmly, “but I’m quite certain Agent Thompson has things well under control. You need to rest, Miss Carter.”

Miss Carter looked momentarily confused. “Thompson - oh. Yes, no, of course. I’m sure he’s fine.” Jarvis frowned, but bade her good night and left the room with Ana, hesitating for a moment after shutting the door behind them. After a brief battle with his conscience he pressed his ear to the door and, hearing the whirring of the telephone dial, swiftly moved into the next room to pick up the extension.

Miss Carter wasn’t calling SHIELD. “Hello, darling,” she said softly to the deep voice that answered her call. “I’m afraid I won’t be home at all tonight.”

“Are you okay?” the man asked, immediately. “You sound kind of - ”

She let out a puff of air. “I’m all right. Things didn’t go entirely according to plan, but everything seems to have worked itself out.” She paused. “Just - perhaps it’s best to avoid the leftovers from dinner. Or throw them out entirely, I suppose.”

There was a confused pause. “What?”

Miss Carter snorted suddenly. “Never mind. On second thought, you’re probably the only person in the world who can eat them. I presume you’re feeling perfectly fine?”

“Peggy…” he said, slowly.

A fond smile crept into her voice. “Darling, I’m quite all right. I seem to have a touch of food poisoning, but I’m feeling much better already. I’m with the Jarvises. They didn’t want to send me home alone, and I couldn’t really - ”

He sighed. “Yeah. I know.” There was a long pause. “You’re really feeling better?”

“I am,” she said, firmly. “I can’t imagine there’s anything much left in my stomach, and I feel far less queasy than I did earlier. I’m going to go to sleep now, and - well, I suppose I’ll need to go into work tomorrow, but I’ll certainly have to come home and change clothes first, so you’ll be able to see for yourself.” 

“Okay,” he said, not sounding entirely reassured. “Get some rest. Love you.”

“I love you too, my darling,” she said softly, and hung up the phone.

Jarvis hung up the extension too, feeling rather astonished, and turned to see Ana standing directly behind him with her hands on her hips. Laying a finger to his lips, he gestured to her to follow him quietly down the hall to their own bedroom, where he shut the door behind them.

“What on earth are you doing, Edwin?” she asked immediately, her eyebrows raised. “Eavesdropping on a guest, particularly Miss Carter whose telephone calls tend to be of a classified nature, seems rather unlike you.”

“I know,” he said, mildly chastened. “But - ” he leaned forward, “you were right, she _is_ in love.”

Ana’s hands were on her hips again. “Edwin! That is no excuse to listen in on a private conversation. Miss Carter will introduce us to her beau when she is ready. Pushing her will do no good.”

Jarvis looked at her, seriously. “Ana, I believe she may be actually living with the gentleman in question. I just worry that - with all the - do you think she might be - expecting?”

Ana’s face was a sudden study in conflict. Jarvis managed to keep a mostly straight face as he watched her wrestle with her conscience. Finally, she sighed dramatically and leaned forward. “All right. Tell me everything.”

\-----

Miss Carter seemed much better in the morning, managing two slices of dry toast and half a cup of tea, then thanking the Jarvises profusely and accepting a ride home. 

“I’m afraid I saw neither hide nor hair of her gentleman friend,” Jarvis reported back upon his return.

“Did you truly expect you would?” Ana asked, holding up her face for a kiss. 

“No,” he admitted, obliging her with aplomb. “But one never knows.” He frowned as he hung up the car keys. “Ana, she called him ‘darling’. They both said ‘I love you’. Why on earth hasn’t she said anything to anyone?” 

Ana shrugged. “Perhaps it’s classified,” she suggested, her dimples showing.

Jarvis looked at her, thunderstruck. “Ana, what if he’s an enemy agent?”

Ana looked amused. “Edwin, you are taking this far too personally. Do you really think Miss Carter would - ”

“Not knowingly!” he retorted. “But if you will recall, she lived next door to Dottie Underwood for some time without realizing - ”

Ana frowned. “It is a little strange,” she admitted.

\-----

Any thought of pursuing this new development, however, took an immediate back seat to the unpleasant discovery that Miss Carter’s illness had, in fact, been neither morning sickness nor food poisoning.

The illness went through Agent Thompson, both the Jarvises, Mr. Stark, and in the end nearly half of SHIELD headquarters, with only two small consolations: the first being that it was a short-lived, if intense affliction, and the second being that Miss Carter had almost certainly infected McKay as well and, with any luck, his entire organization. 

Nonetheless, aside from a note expressing her sincere mortification at the entire affair, it was some time before Jarvis saw Miss Carter again. She was tremendously busy at work, given the disruption the virus had made to several investigations, and he supposed she was also rather busy with her mystery lover who, Jarvis thought uncharitably, had probably been the original source of the illness. And what on earth had she meant when she’d said he was the only person in the world who could safely eat tainted food? Was she seeing some sort of scientifically enhanced, experimental - 

He frowned. She had, in fact, previously been involved with a scientifically enhanced, experimental super soldier, hadn’t she?

\-----

“You think she has a type?” asked Mr. Stark, when Jarvis brought it up the next day. He looked suddenly thoughtful. “Peg doesn’t trust Zola as far as she can throw him, which is surprisingly far, by the way, I saw her do it once. And I don’t either. But I’ve been looking into his research. He was experimenting with Erskine’s serum during the war, trying to fix what went wrong with Schmidt, and he had a hell of a lot of POWs to work with.” He frowned. “In fact, he had all of the Howling Commandos captive at Krausberg for almost a week before Rogers rescued them, and I’m pretty damn sure he gave that serum to at least one of ‘em. Now, Barnes fell off a train in ‘45, but I wonder if any of the others - ”

Jarvis was struck entirely dumb by this hitherto unthought-of possibility. “I - yes, I suppose that could - good gracious!”

Mr. Stark shrugged. “Could explain why she hasn’t introduced us. Might feel a bit awkward when they all fought along with her and Steve.” 

“I was concerned that she might have fallen into a honey trap of some sort,” said Jarvis, “but - ”

Mr. Stark snorted. “A honey trap? Jarvis, my friend, you’ve been watching too many spy movies.”

“Miss Carter is a spy,” said Jarvis stiffly. “And might I remind you that you, yourself, once spent a romantic weekend with one Ida Emke, aka Miss Dottie Underwood, who later - ”

“Who?” asked Mr. Stark, then grinned. “No, no, don’t make that face, I remember. But Jarvis, I sleep with so many women, one or two of ‘em’s bound to be a spy. But this is Peggy. She’s a hell of a lot more selective.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Jarvis said.

\-----

It was early November before Miss Carter was able to tear herself away from her professional obligations long enough to accept an invitation to dinner, and Jarvis resolved to bring the matter up with her for once and for all. It was ridiculous, really, for her to keep such an important part of her life from her closest friends. 

“Maybe you should simply ask her to bring a guest,” suggested Ana solemnly, but with a twinkle in her eye. She had accused him of enjoying his self-imposed detective work a little too much, but she was inclined to indulge him as long as he didn’t actually pry too far into Miss Carter’s private affairs. 

Jarvis raised a single eyebrow. “I don’t want to frighten her away entirely. I believe she’s already suspicious.”

Suspicious or not, Miss Carter found a rather dramatic way to avoid questioning, taking a hard knock to the head on the afternoon of the dinner and being brought, still unconscious, to hospital. Mr. Stark called to inform the Jarvises, who were both at her bedside when she finally awoke, several hours later. She blinked up at them, looking rather confused. “Hello.”

Jarvis bent over her. “You’ve taken a rather nasty bump to the head, Miss Carter. Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Jarvis,” she said. “But where’s - where’s Steve?”

Jarvis exchanged a look with Ana, who reached down to take Miss Carter’s hand. “Steve Rogers?” she asked, carefully, and Miss Carter gave her an odd look. “Yes,” she said, impatiently. “Has anybody called him?”

It occurred to Jarvis, suddenly, that somebody should probably inform her mystery beau that she’d been hurt. She’d been planning to come for dinner straight from the office, and he quite likely had no idea that anything had happened. 

This new development, however, might make things rather awkward for the poor fellow.

“Miss Carter,” Jarvis asked carefully, “do you know what year it is?”

She looked confused. “1949.”

That was - good, he thought. Although, perhaps the fact that she could remember the year but not that Captain Rogers had gone down in the Valkyrie was even more alarming, come to think of it.

“I’ll fetch the doctor,” he said, and Ana nodded.

He spoke to one of the nurses, and on the way back to Miss Carter’s room made a detour to the telephone. He dialed Miss Carter’s home number, and after two rings, a voice he recognized from the night of her illness answered. “Hello?”

“Hello,” said Jarvis briskly. “This is Edwin Jarvis, Howard Stark’s butler. I believe you are - ”

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong number,” the man on the other end interrupted, politely.

“Miss Carter’s in hospital,” Jarvis said hastily, before he could hang up. 

There was an intake of air, then a long pause. “Is she all right?” he asked, finally.

“In - in a manner of speaking,” said Jarvis. “Nothing life-threatening, I’m happy to report, although it seems rather unlikely she’ll be released this evening.” He paused, then cleared his throat. “She doesn’t know I’ve called.”

“Oh,” said the man at the other end of the line, sounding so surprised at that that he was momentarily diverted from his concern about Miss Carter. “Then, how - ”

Jarvis drew himself up. “Miss Carter is a dear friend, and I pride myself in knowing her very well, despite her reluctance to share what seems to be a rather important detail of her life.”

“She - ” Miss Carter's beau sighed. “She has a very good reason, which I can’t explain.” There was a short pause. “Are you sure she’s okay? What happened?”

“She took a rather nasty blow to the head. She seems quite well, all things considering, although - I assume you’re familiar with Steve Rogers.”

“I am, yes.” He sounded faintly amused for no reason Jarvis could see. Well, perhaps he was one of the Howling Commandos after all, although his voice didn’t match any of the ones Jarvis had met.

“Well,” said Jarvis, lowering his voice. “I’m afraid she’s under the impression that he’s alive.”

There was a long silence.

“She seems quite all right otherwise,” Jarvis hastened to assure him. “She knew me, and she knows the year. It’s just that - she seemed rather irritated that nobody had called him.”

“Oh,” he said, and then there was another long, thoughtful pause, and then a deep breath, as if he had come to some sort of decision. “Is she allowed visitors?”

\-----

“I’m quite all right, Mr. Jarvis,” Miss Carter insisted. “I am perfectly aware of who I am, who you are, and that Captain Rogers was lost with the Valkyrie four years ago. I just - ” she waved a hand, a little helplessly. “I was just a little disorientated at first. I misspoke.”

Jarvis raised an eyebrow. “Misspoke.”

“Yes,” she said. “I’d been having a particularly vivid dream. I seem to make a habit of that, after taking a knock to the head. I suppose it shakes the synapses loose, a little.” 

“Ah,” Jarvis said, in sudden understanding. Yes, that could explain her brief certainty that Steve Rogers could be called, should be waiting by her bedside.

Ana reached over to squeeze her shoulder. “You will always love Captain Rogers. But - there is somebody new now, is there not?”

Miss Carter looked oddly stricken for a moment, then shook her head slowly. “Not - not as such.”

Jarvis suppressed a sigh. “Miss Carter, I’m afraid the jig, as they say, is up. Your beau is on his way to the hospital as we speak.”

Miss Carter looked alarmed. “What? How - ” 

“I telephoned him,” he informed her, a little smugly.

“And he’s _coming_? The idiot. Good God, that man has never had any sense of - ” she broke off. “How long ago did you speak with him? Perhaps we can catch him before he - bloody hell!” She was looking past him, to the open doorway, where a tall man stood, a slightly sheepish smile on his face. 

He was well-built, dark-haired and bearded, with glasses that did nothing to disguise the way he was watching Miss Carter. She, it had to be said, was staring at him in exactly the same way, as if, despite her annoyance, a high-voltage electrical circuit had snapped into place when their eyes met. She had quite certainly never, at least not in Jarvis’s presence, looked at either Jason Wilkes or Daniel Sousa - nor, he thought a bit wryly, Dottie Underwood - with anything near the same intensity.

Ana and Jarvis exchanged a look of their own. “Perhaps Miss Carter and her guest would like a cup of tea,” said Ana, tactfully. “Come, Edwin, let us go see if the cafeteria is open.”

Once in the hall, she elbowed him, her eyes dancing. “It seems possible that we’ve never met him simply because they can’t keep their hands off each other in public.”

“Ana!” 

She took his arm. “It is nice to see her so happy.”

“Yes,” he conceded. “I suppose it is.”

\-----

When they returned, Miss Carter’s beau was sitting on the chair nearest to her bed, their faces bent close together. Despite their proximity, it didn’t look as if they’d been interrupted in any sort of intimacy - they appeared, in fact, to be arguing. He nudged her as Jarvis and Ana approached, and she turned to face the door.

“We’ve brought tea,” said Jarvis, holding out the two paper cups.

“Thank you, Mr. Jarvis,” said Miss Carter, distractedly. She indicated the small table at the side of the bed, but the man at her bedside smiled at Jarvis and took the cups from him.

“Thanks,” he said.

Jarvis cleared his throat significantly, and Miss Carter sighed. “Edwin and Ana Jarvis, this is - this is Grant Stevens,” she said. “I - ah, as you’ve deduced, he’s my - that is to say, he and I are - ”

“- an item,” Stevens finished, then grinned at her. “I thought I was the one who got tongue-tied in situations like this, Peg.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said. “You’re not nearly so easily flustered as you once were.” She looked back at Jarvis, then over to Ana. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you sooner.” She sighed. “I’m beginning to see that I was foolish to think - ” Her eyes widened as she stared past Jarvis, and he turned to see his employer standing in the doorway with a bouquet of flowers.

“Hey pal! Heard you took a pretty decent whack to the noggin - wanted to make sure you still remembered me.”

Miss Carter swore, and Mr. Stark raised his eyebrows. 

“Guess you did get hit pretty hard, huh? At least I don’t think I’ve done anything lately that would - ” he stopped, staring at the man next to her as if he’d seen a ghost.

There was a long silence.

“Hi Howard,” said Stevens, a little sheepishly.

Jarvis could not remember a time when he’d seen Mr. Stark look so utterly thunderstruck. “It’s really him?” Mr. Stark asked, and Miss Carter nodded. “How the hell - who found him, and why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

Ana and Jarvis looked at each other, and he could tell that Ana had just made the same, ridiculous leap of absolutely wild illogic that he had.

“Not here,” said Miss Carter, firmly. 

\-----

The dinner they’d planned was, although slightly postponed, far more informative than Jarvis could possibly have hoped when he’d issued the original invitation.

Once they’d all agreed not to divulge Captain Rogers’ presence to anyone not currently in the room, Miss Carter took a deep breath. “Steve is - well, as you can see, he isn’t dead. The serum kept him alive after the crash, and the ice kept him in a state of suspended animation until the wreckage of the Valkyrie was found. In - in the year 2011.”

Mr. Stark dropped his glass. Captain Rogers, seated next to him, caught it before it hit the table.

“They were able to defrost me,” he said. “I - I thought I had no choice but to adapt, move on. But then - ”

“Time travel,” said Mr. Stark, his eyes wide. “I knew it was possible!” Jarvis could see the wheels turning, equations flashing in front of his eyes.

“No,” said Miss Carter, firmly. “That is to say, yes, time travel, but no, you are not to pursue this, Howard.”

“I can’t tell you much about what happened,” said Captain Rogers. “And I doubt I’d be able to help you with the technicalities of the time travel itself even if I wanted to. But I had the opportunity to come back, to Peggy, and I - well, I was very late for a date.”

He and Miss Carter exchanged a long look that made Ana nudge Jarvis under the table.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you for so long,” said Miss Carter, turning back to the rest of them. “I suppose I just - at first it didn’t seem entirely real, and Steve was so exhausted - ”

“I bet he was,” said Howard, elbowing Captain Rogers with a grin.

“Not because of that, you ass,” said Miss Carter, rolling her eyes, although Jarvis noticed that both she and Captain Rogers were blushing a little.

“Sometimes it’s nice to keep a happy little secret,” said Ana, and Miss Carter smiled at her.

“Yes,” she said. “But I’ve been realizing that it simply isn’t sustainable in the long term. Not from our closest friends. And as Steve has pointed out, had I been more badly injured, he never would have been informed - had it not been for your excellent detective work, Mr. Jarvis.”

“I do like to think I managed to pick up a thing or two during my adventures with you, Miss Carter,” said Jarvis modestly.

She smiled at him. “I was also wondering if I might impose upon your excellent forgery skills. I certainly have the resources at SHIELD, but I’d prefer to stay outside of official channels. And, Steve - or, I suppose, Grant - will eventually need some sort of identity, if we’re to - ”

“Marry?” asked Ana, eagerly, and Jarvis, watching her fondly, knew that, in her mind, she’d already designed the perfect wedding dress.

Captain Rogers grinned, and Miss Carter smiled at Ana. “Among other things, yes.”

Ana clapped her hands. “I have already drawn up some sketches.” She winked at Miss Carter. “You will need a garter that is not a holster, I think.”

Miss Carter laughed out loud. “I expect that would probably be best, yes.” She picked up her fork. “Now, let’s not let this delicious-smelling food get cold. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m starving.”

\-------

Miss Carter quietly drew Jarvis aside as he helped her into her coat at the door. “Mr. Jarvis, I’m so sorry for shutting you out. It was quite an unprecedented situation, and I - I hope you know how much I value my friendship with you, and with Ana.”

He smiled at her. “All is forgiven, Miss Carter. But I certainly hope that you and Captain Rogers know that you may always rely on us.”

“The sentiment is entirely mutual, Mr. Jarvis,” she said, and then unexpectedly leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. He blinked in surprise, but she was already on her way out the door, hand in hand with Captain Rogers, who, Jarvis mused to himself, might in fact be the only man in the world who was actually agile enough to keep up with her.


End file.
